Suddenly the Tuchuk bent to the soil and picked up a handful of dirt and grass, the land on which the bosk graze, the land which is the land of the Tuchuks, and this dirt and this grass he thrust in my hands and I held it. The warrior grinned and put his hands over mine so that our hands, together held the dirt and grass, and were together clasped upon it.
"Yes," said the warrior, "come in peace to the Land of the Wagon Peoples." Nomads of Gor, 26.
"He is a stranger," she said. "He should be slain!"
Kamchak grinned up at her. "He has held with me dirt and earth," he said. Nomads of Gor, 32.
"You would risk," I asked, "the herds – the wagons –the peoples?"
"Yes," said Kamchak.
"Why?" I asked.
He looked at me and smiled. "Because," said he, "we have together held grass and earth." Nomads of Gor, 52.
"We’re all mad here. I’m mad. You’re mad. You must be," said the Cat,"‘or you wouldn’t have come here."